Do you think your sexual adventures should spice up more than just the bedroom? So do we! Kay, Nikki, and Sebastian have teamed up to bring you KKF, a series of smoking, sizzling, and salacious vignettes designed to stimulate your appetite for naughtiness in and around the kitchen. Tune in each week for a new tantalizing and titillating kink story.

“Sssss” “Sssss” “Sssss”

Jacob dropped the raw hamburgers and brats onto the hot grill as I walked out the back door. Immediately, the sound of the grease sizzling and the smell of the fat cooking made my mouth water. The potatoes had already been incubating in their shiny tented foil homes, and the seasoned vegetables were in their wire basket, anxiously waiting to join the fiery party.

I slid my arms around the waist of my shirtless, sweaty chef and peeked my head around his arm, sniffing, “Mmm, that smells divine already. You said an hour till everything is ready, right, Bobby Flay?” I teased him.

He came after me with his long grilling tongs, snapping at my bottom and my breasts as I ran away giggling.

“Oh, wait for a second,” he said, then whistled like a looky-loo at a construction site when he saw that I was wearing the new bikini that I bought for our upcoming trip to Australia. “There is far less fabric to that than the picture you showed me online. I am not sure if I am comfortable with other men ogling you in that.”

I spread my towel out on the lawn, making sure to bend over as far as I could to straighten out the edges. Getting down on all fours, I grabbed my book, then propped myself up on my elbows to read a bit while tanning my backside.

“I am sorry, Jacob, I already bought this one, so you are just going to have to get comfortable with it,” I said, and I opened my book with a declarative sigh.

Ouch!” I screamed as the stainless-steel grilling spatula slapped down on my left bare ass cheek. And before I could roll over, the left cheek incurred the same offense.

As I began my protest, I felt a warm, luxurious cascade of oil running down my tush. As if this liquid gold was not enough, Jacob pressed his hands on my skin, and where the spatula had just stung me like a bee, his firm strokes through the oil now soothed my every fiber.

My toes curled, my back arched, and an “mmm” escaped my lips.

Dammit, he knew he had me.

I caught a scent like a bloodhound on the hunt.

That certainly isn’t coconut oil. What is that smell? Oh shit! Are you kidding me?

“Jacob, is that vegetable oil you are marinating me in?”

He laughed heartily and said, “I plead the fourth.”

“It’s the fifth, dumbass. But I forgive you because that feels so amazing, and you are going to help me wash it all off later.” Another laugh from him asserted his agreement.

“Natalie,” he said, running his hands out to my hips, where the bikini bottoms were held together only by string ties. “You see here, Nat, how easily this might come untied while we are at the beach and expose you to all the other beach-goers.” A rumble came from deep in his throat as he slowly untied each side and pulled the back panel down. I lifted my hips slightly, and he pulled the whole piece out.

“That was rather easy, I suppose,” I mused.

More firm strokes now filled the place the back panel once covered. Jacob’s hand glided smoothly into my crevice and his finger slid along its base so softly aided by the oil. As if this wasn’t enough to drive me crazy, on his last pass before leaving my most intimate valley, he took one moment to round my tight little rosebud and make me squirm.

“If I am not mistaken, Nat, the same could be said for this tiny little top as well. A strong wave could come up and pull these strings apart.”

He slid his hands slowly up to untie the string at my midback and my neck to demonstrate how easily my top could just fall apart. I started to giggle at the absurdity of the scenario, but hushed when a torrent of that hot lubricant fell liberally over my back, and I tensed up in anticipation of Jacob’s strong hands running across my back.

Instead, I heard, “Shit, sorry, that came out fast,” and I laughed so hard, thinking back twenty-five years to the first time we had sex in the back of his car when I heard a similar apology.

Unwavering in his mission, Jacob wiped some of the oil into the grass and continued. He worked his magical hands in long, firm strokes across my bare back and shoulders, my neck, and over my arms.

Just as I was primed and purring, he jumped up, sweat dripping onto my back.

“Better flip the burgers,” he teased.

Flipping over and sitting up on my elbows, naked, to ogle my gorgeous husband, I giggled and thought,

That little shithead likes to do this to me. Get me wet and horny, and make me wait!

I laughed at the silliness of our playfulness.

I stopped laughing.

The laughter continued.

We are not alone!

Behind my sunglasses, I casually looked all around the yard and saw nothing at first. Peering again, closer this time, I saw two sets of eyes through the fence.

Speaking of looky-loos, I honestly thought all the neighbors were out of town for the long Labor Day weekend. I couldn’t tell who it is was, but I thought it was Allie and Leigha, neighbors from down the street.

As Jacob sauntered back over to me, I quickly debated telling him that we had an audience. I opted to hold off for the moment.

“You better be planning to lose those jeans, mister, since I am sitting here naked, oily, and horny as fuck for you.” I looked up at him with a devilish grin, and in three seconds, he was naked on his hands, leaning over and kissing me hard.

He grabbed the oil bottle one more time, pouring the rest of the oil all over us, and he pushed me back onto the grass; we made out like we did when we were teenagers. Our tongues raced into each other’s mouths, then licking, sucking, biting ears, necks, and nipples (ok, so maybe not like we were teenagers). Our hands explored our bodies as if we had never met before, taking time to caress, hold, and stroke each sweaty, oily, sizzling inch of flesh with new admiration and lust.

We required no pleading, no requests, no words. We had been together twenty-five years, and even amid something new like slathering up in vegetable oil, in the backyard, with the neighbors watching, our bodies knew when it was time to move to the next echelon of carnal indulgence. His knee moved between mine, and without thinking, I spread my legs wide, inviting him into me.

I felt his heat approach mine; just as I felt him start to penetrate me, he stopped…

I was not the only one who heard the disturbance behind the fence this time. Jacob’s head shot up like a rocket. But before he could talk or scream or otherwise react, I grabbed his cheeks and forced him to look directly into my eyes. I could see a mix of panic and protection in his baby blues. But I wanted him to see the vixen in mine.

“Jacob, it’s Allie and Leigha from down the road. I heard them a few minutes ago. They have been watching us.” His muscles relaxed a bit

“Jacob, I have known they were there since we started, and I’m ok with it. Are you?

First, there was confusion in those blue eyes, but soon he reflected the same passion and lust he saw in mine. He kissed me hard, I mean hard, like he was drawing out my very life force. We were having an afternoon of firsts, and the hotness factor just went through the roof.

And if his kiss was hard, his cock was steel.

Again, we abandoned all words as he pushed into my wetness, not with force but with determination. Moving into me until he found his home, we fit together perfectly, with me able to pull every inch of him deep into me, while he was able to hit every spot every time for me. There never was and never will be a question of how good our sex was or if we could make the other one orgasm every time.

He began fucking me slowly. He knew I liked that so that I could feel each movement, tits bouncing, hips touching, cock sliding, balls slamming, and today, sweat dripping. It wasn’t just the cock in my pussy for me, it was the whole experience, and he understood that about me. That’s part of why I loved him.

Then my subtle cue, my nails dug into his back, and he picked up his pace. I barely realized because every nerve was on fire. I responded in kind, humping my hips to meet his, a perfect give and give.

He looked me deep in the eyes, and without words, he asked if he could go faster, maybe deeper even. Silently, I gave him my permission with the same feverish look he was giving me.

That’s it, there, there, I screamed in my head, and I knew he heard me because he held his target and his speed.

My abdomen started to tighten, and my back arched higher. He knew I was getting closer.

He remained steady on his course.

I felt his member swell ever so slightly within me.

He remained undaunted.

My walls squeezed him hard, and his shaft twitched as it filled in preparation.

Then finally, words became necessary.

“Oh God yes, Jacob!”

“Yes, yes, Nat!”

Cries of lust filled the backyard for the remainder of the orgasmic wave. I think I heard dogs howling three streets over.

Jacob collapsed onto me then slid off to the side because of the sweat and oil, but before he could relax Jacob looked up at the grill. Smoke was billowing from the grill and this new smell of burnt meat was not so appealing. 

“Oh shit, I forgot about dinner,” he said, only partly upset.

“Well, how about pizza?” I suggested. Within forty-five minutes, we had showered, cleaned up the burnt food, and we were eating a cheeseburger pizza on the patio in remembrance of the fallen meat.

“Oh, honey,” Jacob looked over at me, obviously sated in every way, “Don’t forget to put vegetable oil on the grocery list.”

It turned out to be a lovely Labor Day weekend.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Tuesday evening was our monthly book club for the neighborhood ladies. A typical book club was thirty minutes of snacking, thirty minutes of discussing the book and announcing the book for next month. Then the rest of the evening was a free-for-all for shopping recommendations, bitching about husbands, and general gossiping.

To my surprise, when I entered our host’s home, all of the ladies were already seated, wine in hand. I was ushered over to a chair and handed a viognier, and the host began.

“Natalie, we hear from Allie and Leigha that Jacob burned your barbecue on Sunday, and you ended up eating pizza. Care to elaborate?”

Looking around at all the prying eyes, I finished my glass in one gulp!

 

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All rights reserved. This story or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a review. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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